


Running: An Arcana Chronicles Fanfiction

by GreenThumbTarasova (kjoyp)



Category: The Arcana Chronicles - Kresley Cole
Genre: F/M, Fragrant Mystery, arcana chronicles - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-29 19:00:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3907111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjoyp/pseuds/GreenThumbTarasova
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A continuation of Fragrant Mystery.  Jack and Evie's Journey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. AF: 207  part 1  On the road.

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Fragrant Mystery: An Arcana Chronicles Fanfiction](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1965027) by [GreenThumbTarasova (kjoyp)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjoyp/pseuds/GreenThumbTarasova). 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Evie's first day on the road.   
> Running.

Author Note: This is a continuation of Fragrant Mystery. It's a monster but you'll want to read that first, even though the first few chapters were a bit rushed and repetitive.

The plan is to move the last few chapters of the first fic here and then pick up again with chapter three or four. I'll be doing that over the next few days when I find time. Thanks for your patience.

* * *

**Evie**

In my dream I was lying at the foot of a great oak in the grass. Large roots lay before and behind me, sheltering me in a shallow bed of soft moss. My head was pillowed on my arm, my other arm extended to rest on the root leading to the tree at my head. Thick lovely green branches sheltered me overhead, letting through mottled sunlight, the dappled shadows nearly hypnotizing as I watched. The spicy forest scent was delicious. I felt I could lie here in the safety of this oak for an age and a day and never want to leave. But even if I needed to wander over my fields to plant and work, I knew this oak would be willing to move it's heavy roots to stay by my side, to swing it's formidable branches should any foe appear. I stroked the heavy root affectionately and was surprised when a smaller root grew to trap my hand where it was. I stared at that for a moment, blinking at the curiosity from where I lay with my head pillowed on my arm. Why was my oak trying to trap me?

I pulled a bit but the roots held firm. Not threatening, just firm. I stroked again idly within the narrow confines, pondering this new development. I felt the whole root shudder and groan.

“Evie?  _T'apres reveille_?” Was I awake? I'd been scared to fall asleep earlier, my head lolling, my eyes heavy, but Jack had promised to keep the nightmares away, even in the car.

The mossy spot under my strong oak grew dim, then dark, replaced by the sounds and vibrations of a car, rocked by strong winds. My hand was on Jack's stomach under his shirt, his hand securely holding mine against his firm abs. I liked his stomach. My hand stroked him sleepily, warm strong muscles, keeping me safe, guarding my dreams.  _Thank you Jack._

I heard him mutter softly, “ _Elle a pas d’idée que c’est tentable elle est. Après m’affoler.” -She has no idea how tempting she is. Driving me crazy_. My hand was freed for a moment and the soft music clicked off.

Driving him crazy? Tempting him? How could I be doing that? I was just sleeping. I stretched lazily, my arm trying to stretch around his side in a sleepy hug.

He pulled my hand away from his stomach with a groan. Why? Settling it on my side and stroking my hair. “  _T'apres reveille ma belle?” -_ _Are you awake my beauty?_

My dream had been lovely, but how could I resist waking up to that? I smiled sleepily and hummed, feeling so refreshed and happy from a good sleep, and so grateful to this strong man next to me. I pushed up and got to my knees, leaned over the console, trapping his arm around my back and wrapped my arms around his neck.

 _“Ouais. Merci beaucoup_ _pour protégeas moi songes, Jack.” -_   _Yeah. Thanks so much for protecting my dreams Jack._   I told him softly in his ear, knowing he'd rather hear my thanks in French, then laying soft kisses on his slightly scruffy jaw. Was this what falling in love felt like? I felt intoxicated. I wanted to be closer to his forest scent, I wanted to climb in his lap and hug him tight, maybe pick up where we left off this morning. I  _really_ wanted more kisses.

His arm was around my waist and he groaned low, then I felt him pull over to the side and stop. He didn't have to decelerate much. The winds were up and buffeting the car, the ash making visibility poor. He couldn't have been doing more than thirty. Then I was hauled into his lap, my legs arranged on either side of his, and he was kissing me. Yes! He rocked up into me and his hands on my hips urged me to grind against his hard cock. I moaned, crying out. It felt too good.

His mouth traveled down my jaw, pushing my shirt up, my bra cups pushed down and then he was suckling me, pinching the other side hard enough that I squirmed over him.

“We got two choices.” He told me shortly, both hands playing my nipples like instruments while my panties dampened.

“What?” I gasped, hardly even comprehending that he was offering choices at all.

“We can fuck quick and fast now, or we can stop, and pick this up tonight in about five hours.”

“Five?” I gasped on a whine. My hands clutched his shoulders and I buried my head there almost shaking. Stop?

He chuckled. “Ouais. I doan wan' to stop either,  _cher _ _é__._  Here's what we'll do then. You hop back over there and shuck your pants and underwear off. Grab a couple condoms from my bag. I'll drive another couple miles just to be safe. Then we'll pull over and pick up where we left off, ouais?”

I nodded and he practically tossed me in my seat, moving us in gear and getting back on the road. I found the side pocket I'd avoided before tearing two off the strip, my brain still fogged by lust and ruminating oddly that for once I was actually taking a more equal roll in the activities instead of just taking what I was given like last night and this morning. I toyed with the button on my jeans.

“Come on  _ma belle_. I will if you will. Ready?”

My eyes widened. What did he mean? I didn't have time to ask. “Ready? Go!”

I shucked off my jeans and panties together, kicking my shoes off too and leaving them all together down by my feet, then turned to look at Jack. He was pulling over, but one thing was different. His jeans were undone and his cock was standing straight out. He parked, scooted back and reclined his seat as far as it went and turned to me, his eyes hot.

“  _Viens ici, bebe._ ” -Come here, baby. His arms reaching for me.

I carefully climbed onto his lap. He tore the two pack of condoms in half, stuffing one in his back pocket, and ripped open the other, covering himself and I felt a moment's regret. I wanted to touch that part of him, feel, explore....taste. But then he'd pushed my shirt up, my bra too, and hauled me to him, his mouth covering my nipple and sucking hard, making little bites and nips that shot bolts of feeling straight between my legs. I steadied my hands on his shoulder and the center console at his waist. His hand dipped to feel me between my legs.

Another groan. “That's  _ma bonne fille_. You're fuckin' soaked.. But I'll bet I can get you wetter.” Two fingers curled inside me finding a spot that made me cry out. He stayed there, stroking inside until I felt a climax shoot through me, making me light headed and spots dance in front of my eyes.

“Jack!” I gasped.

“I know  _b _é_ b _é__ _._  Hang on. This is goan to be good, but quick.” He tugged my hands to his shoulders, then guided my hips down until he sank inside me with a very satisfied groan. “Mais, yeah, Evangeline. I been needing to feel you for the last four hours.” He felt so incredibly deep and so amazingly good.

He guided me up and I helped with shaky legs, then pulled me down hard and I cried out. Those black stars had returned to my vision along with a sharp shock of pleasure. He was hitting spots inside me that felt almost too good and too intense to bear. “Jack!”

“You okay?” He asked. He raised me up and pulled down again. I cried out again. He moaned, then asked, though the effort was costing him. “Am I bein' too rough?”

“It's...It's almost...  _too_ good.” I told him on a whisper.  So hot and dizzy.  Like every part of me was focused on where we were joined, like I lived for these moments.

He pulled me up and down, more cries. “Tell me how it feels  _b _é_ b _é_._  How does it feel when my cock is claiming you? Thrusting deep inside you?” Two more thrusts while he asked that. I whimpered. My head was getting heavy.

“Dizzy. Hot. So full. So...Intense. So much Jack!”

His eyes were fixed on mine and as mine started to close and my head fell with the strength of the pleasure coursing through me Jack snapped, “Look at me, Evangeline!”

I dragged my head up, my dazed eyes meeting his.  _“_ _À moi, Evangeline_ _.” He told me._

_Of course I was his. Didn't he know that? “_ _À toi, Jack. À toi.” -_ _I'm yours, Jack. I'm yours._

The smile that lit his face was breathtaking. He hauled my neck to him and tilted my head to possess my mouth as he was already possessing my body. He rocked into me as his tongue and cock claimed me. I felt so hot and dizzy and crazed with love and lust for this boy. My hands flew over his hair, his shoulders. Inside the sleeves of his shirt to feel his skin. I mourned that he was still dressed. “You goan to come for me again?” he teased as he toyed with my breasts. They filled his hands and he pulled and tugged at each nipple. I loved how he touched me.

“I..I don't know.”

“Oh, I think you are.” He got a cocky smirk. He pushed me up, licked his thumb, and then rubbed my clit, making short thrusts instead of large ones, making me rock my hips. His head dipped to suck hard on one breast, sucking and flicking. His cock hit my g-spot with every rocking motion of our hips and his thumb... “Jack!” I cried out, clasping his head to me as I fell, feeling the orgasm shoot through me to the tips of my fingers and toes.

Once I came his thrusts grew even wilder, harder. His hands gripped my hips, lifting up, then pulling down, again, and again, and again, thrilling me with the way he lost his control and grew wild for me. My cries matched his grunts with each thrust, as he hit somewhere deep inside me a new spot that felt so good it nearly hurt, and just when I thought I couldn't take it any more I was flying up again, spiraling high into another climax as he stopped and ground deep into me, pulling my hips to his.

As our breathing settled he held me close, but he cradled my head in his hand, and looking in my eyes told me, “  _Mais, je vas vous toujours te protéger Evangeline,_ _toi et tes rêves_ _. T’es gardes avec moi.”_   _I'll always protect you Evangeline, you and your dreams. You're safe with me_.

When I heard that, I felt my heart melt. He was promising he would always protect and guard me, that he would take care of me and keep me safe. My eyes moistened and my arms tightened around his shoulders and right then, I made a promise back to him. I couldn't exactly guard him, but I could take care of him in my own way, as best as I could.

In his own tongue I whispered softly, “I know you will protect me, and I will take care of you also.” I meant every word.

 

Jack.

After she'd driven me a little mad with having her hand about an inch from my cock for a good hour, and then started stroking my stomach with her fingers and little nails, I'd grown an erection as hard as granite. When she'd woken up I'd never been happier to move her hand away and gain a little space, but then she'd wrapped her arms around me, smelling lightly of honeysuckle and lavender and thanked me so sweetly in French for protecting her dreams, her breath tickling my ear and making me shiver. Then pressing sweet kisses to my cheek and jaw, making my dick pulse with each one. I'd hit my limit.

When she'd actually been up for car sex it'd been all I could do to keep my hands from shaking. I couldn't believe I was this lucky. Ma belle, who'd been a virgin until last night, was up for this? I couldn't really believe it but I sure wasn't questioning it.

I made sure she enjoyed it though, since I knew we'd be in the car a lot over the next few weeks and I sure hoped to have a repeat of the experience. By the blissed out look on her face when we'd finished I felt I'd succeeded. Dieu, after not having any release except by my own hand for over half a year, being with a woman was bliss. But being with Evangeline? She was becoming an addiction, one I was sure I'd never get enough of. Every time I had her I wanted more, felt like I'd never get enough of her. I'd known from the moment I saw her that I wanted her, but actually having her surpassed my wildest fantasies. The feel, the smell, the taste of her, was unlike anything I'd imagined.  She wasn't like any ordinary girl.  Ma belle was special in a hundred different ways and I wanted to keep her the rest of my days. From the words we'd exchanged, it seemed she was well on her way to accepting that.

 _À toi, Jack. À toi._ Her sweet voice telling me she was mine would echo in my brain for the rest of my days. It echoed still as Evangeline lay soft and sweet in my arms. I'd removed and tied off the condom, but she made me want her so bad I was still half hard, so I held her eyes and smoothly pushed back inside her, not wanting to break out connection yet. I pumped a couple times to keep myself hard, then held her still again. Her eyes widened with surprise, then she softly smiled, using her cunt to squeeze me, obviously liking having me inside. I grinned at that. Ma belle was so sweet she hugged me close with everything she had, arms, legs and pussy. Ouais, I looked forward to getting used to this.

I wished I could promise to make her mine, to give her those rings that were burning like holes in my bag, but she still held her secrets too close. I couldn't tie myself forever to someone who wasn't willing to show me who she was, who still obviously held a large part of herself secret from me. But there was a promise I would make. I held her close, but cradled her head, tangling her hair in my hand and pulled her head back a space so I could look in her eyes.

“  _Mais, je vas vous toujours te protéger Evangeline,_ _toi et tes rêves_ _. T’es gardes avec moi.”_

-I'll always protect you Evangeline, you and your dreams. You are safe with me.

Her eyes widened and then moistened, her lips quivering but curving up at my words. My free hand made soothing strokes down her back under her shirt. I stroked the sensitive swells under her breasts, then held a mound in my hand possessively, the same way I cradled her slender neck. I still couldn't believe she was mine. And I was inside her. I ground up a bit, just enjoying the feeling while I could. The storm was dying down and we'd have to get going in a few minutes. It was dangerous to be stopped like this but while in the thick of the storm we could afford to take a moment for ourselves.

Evie brought her hands to my cheeks softly and laid a tender kiss on my lips, so gentle and sweet, just like her. Then she pulled back just far enough to look in my eyes and whisper, “  _J'connais tu vas protegeras moi, et je garderai toi aussi.”_

Mon Dieu, she was like an arrow to my heart. I swear I'd never been in love before, but this must be what it felt like. My classy rich fille, who should have been out of my league but was right here in my arms, with my cock inside her, telling me in my own tongue that she trusted me to keep her safe, and that she'd take care of me too. And she told me this looking at me with her soft hands on my face and her heart in her eyes. Dieu, what did I ever do to deserve this? A rough Cajun boy like me?

I hauled her to me and gave her the most appreciative, loving kiss I could, my cock beginning to harden even more in response. I had no doubt she planned to take care of me in whatever way she could. She'd already done as much, making sure I was known and welcomed in the one place in the world where food was still grown, giving me that bag of supplies that had shocked the hell out of me. I wondered how else she'd surprise me in the days to come. With a moan of regret I pulled her off me and settled her in her seat, righting my clothes and starting the car. The winds were down enough to see and it wasn't safe to sit here anymore, never mind that it seemed like the middle of nowhere. There really wasn't any telling and I wasn't taking any chances with her. I'd had her twice today and God willing I'd have her again tonight. No need to be greedy.

I started the car and got going. When I checked on her she was pulling on her clothes but looking at me in confusion. “What happened? I thought...I mean...It seemed like...” Her cheeks were cherry red and she was adorable stumbling all over herself not saying what she wanted to say.

“Oh doan get me wrong, I'd love to fuck you again. I doan think I'll ever get enough of you. Mais, the winds are goan down, and there's no tellin' how safe this area is. Ain't goan to risk your safety, not for a second go. Sides,” I threw her a wink, “there's always tonight.”

She blushed. “Understood.” She muttered, though she had a small smile on her face.

 

After a short ways I found a underpass and pulled over for a pit stop. She was sure embarrassed about that, but I told her wasn't no one around, and likely wouldn't be. I stayed on my side of the car while she did her business in the ditch, then changed places and we were back on the road. She was red faced for a good five miles, and passed me hand sanitizer from her bag when I got back in the car. I chuckled and thanked her.  _Fille_ had us stocked, that was for sure.

 

Her stomach growled and mine followed so I suggested she get us some lunch from the back. We had some bread I'd made yesterday and jars of peanut butter, jelly, and apples. I told her where to find the stuff I'd packed and she quickly went about making us some small, if messy sandwiches and cutting up slices of apples with a knife from her pack. She wasn't selfish about it either, making sure I ate first, then taking a bite when my mouth was full. She moaned about how great the bread tasted and I smirked at that, feeling proud at having made something she enjoyed so much.

Then her voice took on a note of sadness, saying softly, “It's too bad we won't get any more bread once this is gone. I've really enjoyed the treat. We didn't have bread for a couple months after the flash either you know? Then we grew our first crops of wheat and spelt, oats and other grains and nuts once we started trading with the Sterling kids who'd collected some rare seeds for the TEOTWAWKI prep prank. After that it was a matter of learning how to mill the grains, but Lionel was pretty resourceful there...”

I decided to cut off her rambling, interesting as it was. “You'll still have bread, cher. I'll make more when our loaves run out.”

She sat in stunned silence for a moment, mouth agape, then turned to me, firing questions in rapid succession. “What do you mean you'll make more? You can make bread? Since when? Do you even have all the ingredients? I didn't bring anything to grind the wheat, or oil, and I don't know what you need to make bread, but I know I didn't pack it. And since when can you make bread?”

I laughed. “ _Calmes toi, p'tit fille_. - _Calm yourself little girl._   I got it handled. I requisitioned everything I needed, even grinding tools if you want them. As for me, ouais, I can make bread. Learned how yesterday afternoon. Got the three loaves I made in the car with me. Wasn't that hard really.” I was looking forward to impressing her the next time I had to make bread actually. Non, what would really be hard was cooking food without the smell of it attracting attention we didn't want to attract. Cooking food outside had a way of smells carrying on the wind. Hungry folk followed their noses. That would be a problem.

She sat in silence for a second, then I heard something between a gasp and a snort. I looked over to find her staring at me with mirth in her eyes, a huge ass grin on her face, which was turning redder by the second, and she looked like she was about to bust out laughing.

“What's the matter with you?” I asked with irritation. I didn't think I'd said anything funny.

She gasped back laughter, trying to keep her composure, and said, “So, let me get this straight? In a single afternoon, you learned how to make a loaf of bread? And you thought it was  _easy?_ ” Then she held her breath and waited for my answer.

I didn't really like where this seemed to be headed but I was proud of all I'd accomplished yesterday so I thought I'd impress her a little. “Non. In an afternoon I learned to make  _three_ different kinds of bread, a gumbo, an étouffée and got a few tips on some other things....” but that was as far as I got because Evangeline completely and totally and lost any reign she'd had on her composure and she full out started laughing hard and quiet, shoulders shaking, hunched over, gasping. She was muttering stuff as she laughed. Between bursts of laughter I caught, “Not that hard, three kinds, and étouffée!” the last of which was said with a shriek of disbelief.

“What the hell Evie?” I asked feeling irritated and edging toward angry. Then she lost her hold on the volume and her shrieks of laughter filled the car. She started laughing so hard I actually saw a tear run down her face.

It was no secret that I had a temper, most Cajun folk did. There was a short list of things that would set me off quicker than a firecracker: someone trying to hurt me or someone under my protection, someone trying to take what was mine, or someone laughing at me, treating me like I wasn't good enough. There were a few other things on that list but those three were at the top and flipped my switch every time. No secret then why I'd been fighting since I learned how to swing a fist and put on enough muscle to make it count.

So I was feeling torn as I watched her laughing at what I thought was my expertise in the kitchen. I was damn proud of what I could do. She should be grateful that I could cook. It'd feed both our stomachs in the weeks, maybe months to come. And yet she was laughing about it? At me?

My jaw clenched and my hands gripped the steering wheel. What the hell was so funny about a man who could cook? And how dare she laugh at me right after I'd made her come? Twice! I dimly heard Lionel and Tee-bo cautioning me that it wasn't like Evangeline to laugh at folks, all evidence to the contrary. The only reason I didn't say something worse was the fact that I still remembered the way she'd felt on top of me, the way it'd felt to be inside her just minutes ago.

So I decided to give her one chance to explain herself and growled out, “Just what the hell is so damn funny?”

 

 

Evie

After I'd gotten over my slight awe of Jack's thoughtfulness to pack us lunch for the road I got down to the business of slicing off mini pb&j sandwiches and apple wedges, passing my canteen of water to him as he gestured for it. The bread was delicious. I was really going to miss bread. It went with everything. Peanut butter, soups, jellys, cinnamon and honey, even just plain. Now that I realized it wasn't going to be on the menu anymore I was feeling a little nostalgic about it, smelling the loaf, wondering how long it would be before I had bread again. I had wheat and spelt seeds but I'd never learned to bake bread, not for lack of trying either.

My efforts had been nothing short of disastrous. I was too distracted. Who wouldn't be when they had a dozen voices spouting nonsense in their head all day long that only got louder when you yelled at them to shut up? I was hopeless. So I was savoring every last bite of this loaf, but I made sure to give Jack the lions share. As big as he was, he needed more food than I did.

I made the off hand comment about not having anymore bread once this loaf was gone. Then I started rambling about how we hadn't had bread at Haven at first either, but Jack cut me off and shocked me stupid at the same time when he said, “You'll still have bread, cher. I'll make more when our loaves run out.”

Well  _that_ was news. Once my brain recovered from that bomb I started asking questions as fast as I could think of them, I was so excited by this development. Jack could make bread?! That was like saying he could create pure awesomeness! “What do you mean you'll make more? You can make bread? Since when? Do you even have all the ingredients? And I didn't bring anything to grind the wheat, or oil, or, I don't know what you need to make bread, but I know I didn't pack it. And since when can you make bread?” I was practically bouncing in my seat I was so excited.

He laughed. I loved the sound of his laugh. “ _Calmes toi, p'tit fille_. I got it handled. I requisitioned everything I needed, even grinding tools if you want them. As for me, ouais, I can make bread. Learned how yesterday afternoon. Got the three loaves I made in the car with me. Wasn't that hard really.”

I sat there and stared at him for a second, then snorted a laugh. It just figured. I'd tried for months to get a single thing right in the kitchen and in one afternoon he'd mastered learning how to make a loaf of bread. I was so jealous. Not in an I hate him way, but in an I wish I had a tenth of his talent way. And it was so ironic. The boy who could hunt, fish, shoot, did well in school, fight, scrounge and everything else, could apparently kick ass in the kitchen too. And me, miss southern bell, couldn't cook a single damn thing. The irony of the situation had me moments away from a full out belly laugh.

“What's the matter with you?” Jack asked, looking irritated. I tried for a poker face. I probably failed, but I took a few calming breaths anyway, more like gasps.

“So, let me get this straight? In a single afternoon, you learned how to make a loaf of bread? And you thought it was easy.” Then I held my breath and tried really really hard not to laugh. I felt my eyes water with the effort. He had no idea he was sitting next to the world's worst cook who would give just about anything to be able to make just one cooked dish come out right. And yet he seemed to think it was all so simple.

He thumbed the steering wheel, tapping as he talked. “Non.” I breathed out in relief. It hadn't been that easy after all. That made me feel a smidge better.

“In an afternoon I learned to make three different kinds of bread, a gumbo, an étouffée , and got a few tips on some other things....” but that was as far as he got because I completely and totally lost it and I couldn't stop laughing. I somehow knew it wasn't a good idea but I just couldn't help it. I'd tried for months to master the simplest of recipes and in a single afternoon he'd mastered a half dozen and gotten pointers on others? It was fricken hilarious! He hadn't learned one bread recipe, he'd learned three! Plus main dishes! What the hell else had he picked up in a single afternoon? Not that hard? An étouffée was freaking complicated! So was gumbo! What did he mean 'not that hard!!!' My man was so brilliant I couldn't believe it. Or was I just that stupid? Now there was a sobering thought. I was laughing so hard now I had tears running down my cheeks. I had to get a grip.

“What the hell Evie?” Jack growled low and deep.

I gasped in several breaths and wiped my face to look at him. Uh-oh. Obviously he didn't get the joke. Which meant he didn't think this was funny.

“I didn't tell you all this to be the butt of a joke. I'd think you'd be fucking grateful you'd get to eat something besides canned soup and whatever I can scrounge rather than laughing at me.” He ground out.

Oh...Oh no. He thought I was laughing at  _him_? All my laughter died away and I turned to him wiping away the last of my tears. He'd just shared something so amazing about himself and I wanted him to tell me more things about himself, anything and everything. He should feel like it was safe to tell me things.

“Oh Jack.” I said softly, all the laughter gone from my voice. I put my arm around his neck and toyed with the hair at his nape, trying to soften him up. His shoulders had gone all stiff and defensive. I leaned over and kissed his cheek gently. “I'm sorry you thought I was laughing at you. I wasn't, not really. It's just, well, you'd have to understand the irony to get the humor. The joke is more on me than you. I promise.”

He raised his brow and glanced at me skeptically. He was listening but wasn't totally buying it. “And how's the joke on you  _Cheré_? You gonna clue me in?”

“Sure, if you want. It's kinda a funny story.”

“We got plenty of time.”

I fed him another sandwich and sighed, thinking over where to start. “Well, the short of the story is that it's really funny that what you learned to do in an afternoon, I couldn't achieve in the whole of my life. So it's the irony of you being a man, and men are typically good at the outdoor things, hunting, protecting, scrounging, smart at school work, like how you always lead our study group even though it was my idea and at my house. You're clearly a natural leader. And no offense, but guys aren't typically thought of as skilled when it comes to the indoor things like cooking, except maybe grilling. But you're apparently awesome at whatever you decide you want to learn to do, so kudos to you!

Me on the other hand...” I shook my head. “I did the girly things in school. Dance, singing, cheerleading, painting, shopping. Made good grades, at least until the...well, you know, those things started happening. They were too distracting."  I frowned.  "I did some gardening before the flash and the only cooking I did preflash was making cookies or preparing h'orderves. Stuff that didn't require cooking. Mom did some cooking but we did a lot of take out. I felt totally unprepared.” I whispered, “Bonne-a-rien.” Then went on stronger. “I didn't learn any useful skills until after the flash. The first thing Rosa tried to teach me was cooking.” I sighed and shook my head again, remembering the months of disasters.

 

Jack

I was glad I'd managed to keep my cool long enough to let her try to explain because this was getting interesting. She was a sweet little thing when she was trying to calm my anger and I was willing to let her. Complementary too. I had no idea she thought so highly of my skills, but now that I knew she did, it seemed clear she really hadn't been laughing at me.

Then she talked about her life before the flash. It'd been about what I'd expected. A soft life where she could pursue her interests and go on to a college. She'd been good at all of them judging from what I'd seen. Her painting, done at just fourteen or fifteen was stunning, and her dancing was mesmerizing, the little I'd seen of it.  I'd only seen her cheer dancing that Friday at school, that night at her party, and again the other night on the poles.  I was lucky enough to get a few dances with her at a real  _fais do do_.  Still, this was nowhere near enough.  I'd seen pictures in albums her  _mére_  had shown me of Evangeline in dancing outfits when she was growing up.  I knew she had incredible talent.  I just hoped I could get her to dance for me again some night soon. She was smart, I didn't doubt that, but she seemed hard on herself. I wondered how well I'd pay attention in class if there were visions of an apocalypse overshadowing a science class I only half cared about anyway.

She had been unprepared for what was coming, but so had pretty much everyone else. But then she whispered something that made my head jerk to face her. “ _Bonne-a-rein_ ” -good for nothing. She shook her head and went on, “I didn't learn any useful skills until after the flash. The first thing Rosa tried to teach me was cooking.” She sighed and shook her head, indicating that hadn't gone well. I was still stuck on  _bonne-a-rein_.

I'd shouted that at her back when she'd stumbled from my home in the rain, telling her she was good for nothing but getting herself into trouble. Had she taken the words I'd said in anger to heart? How could she ever think that about herself now? She made plants grow when nothing green grew anywhere! If that wasn't the complete opposite of  _bonne-a-rein_ I didn't know what was.

“So Rosa tried to teach me to cook, sure there had to be at least one signature dish I had to be able to master. After all, every southern girl just had to be able to cook to catch herself a man, right?"  I heard a little bitter laughter there.  She wasn't happy about her inability, no matter how much she made light of it now.  The failure still ate at her for some reason.  

"So I tried. And tried. And  _tried._ If there was a mistake you could make, believe you me, I made it. Salt instead of sugar. To much or too little of whatever ingredient. Adding the wrong ingredient. Stirring too much or not enough. Cooking too hot or not enough.”

I couldn't help but snicker at her exasperated tone.  She gave me a smile, clearly happy I found her story amusing. I wondered why she got so distracted all the time. Wasn't like she had visions every second of the day. So there had to be something more going on, something she hadn't told me yet.

 _“Finally_ , after ruining far to many valuable ingredients, Rosa shooed my out of my mother's own kitchen, telling me my talents must lie elsewhere and my only hope was in finding a man who could cook.”

I grinned at that. Rosa had hinted in that direction when she'd learned I was Evie's beau and had some talent in the kitchen. Perhaps that had something to do with why she took such an interest in me. Then again, if I read her right, I thought I felt an honest affection there.

“Then a few months after this, when we started bringing in the other city girls to Haven, they had to learn some skills too, learn to be useful, help out and all. So cooking classes for them began. And they weren't learning from my mom, non. They were learning from Rosa and her helpers, who didn't take lip from no one.”

I started laughing, imagining all those city girls just like her, who couldn't cook, trying to learn from all those strong willed Cajun women. What I wouldn't have given to have been a fly on that wall.

“I see you're getting the picture.”

“Ouais, and it's priceless.” I laughed. “How'd you convince them to do this?”

 

Evie

 

Jack's laughter sent a warm feeling through my gut. I'd heard him laugh with Lionel and Tee-bo, but not so much with me. That it was me making him laugh? Even if it was just a silly story about me, that made me happy.

“Well their food had all but run out so it was either work on the farm or starve. No free rides. I'd put the Cajuns in charge, and make no mistake, they well knew it.” He looked at me with that same approval and respect I'd gotten from Ronan and Tee-bo. Didn't that feel good.

Belly flutter. Deep breath. “Anyway,” I regained momentum, “I knew that in the first class were some of my former cheer squad, and I knew these girls. Knew they couldn't cook, knew they didn't like Cajuns, knew they had attitude, but they also didn't have much choice. But I wanted it to go smooth. They can be nice girls and I wanted the women who'd been in my home to see that side of them. So I made sure the cooking class was late morning after the planting was done. The girls had just come in and were standing in the kitchen dead silent, not at all sure about this business or learning from these women. But most of them had something I didn't. They had that one signature dish. So they at least had  _some_  talent in the area.”

Again a chuckle.

“So, I come walking into the kitchen while Rosa, you remember Rosa?”

“Ouais, she's the one who gave me my lessons yesterday afternoon.”

“Seriously?” I was flabbergasted.

“Ouais.”

“Right. Well, she's the head cook because she knows practically every recipe there is from memory and can tell from a look or a taste what you've done wrong. It's just amazing. Not to mention she's got a hundred and one canning recipes. I don't know what we would have done without her. But she can be a touch intimidating. Or hugely intimidating when you're just meeting her.”

“So I walk in behind the girls, weave my way through and sit at a stool, as though I'm joining the class too.” Her voice fills with laughter and Jack grins huge. He pours the soup into the mugs and we sit and eat, dipping our bread in.

So, Rosa waves her wooden spoon at me and tells me, “Just what do you think you're doin'?”

“'I'm joining in classes for the day.' I tell her.”

“'Oh no you ain't.' She says, crossing arms over her big bosom.”

“So now, all my girls are totally ready to be offended on my behalf. I mean, this is my house right? Why wouldn't I be allowed to join in the classes? So then I tell her, 'I'm just here to watch and lend moral support.'”

“Then she says all stern, 'Not one foot in  _my_ kitchen.'”

“Then Grace Anne says, 'Isn't this Evie's kitchen?'”

“And Rosa says, 'When Miss Evie learns to cook somethin' in it, it'll be her kitchen. Till that day it's my kitchen, isn't that right Miss Evie?'”

“I point,” using my bread to demonstrate, “at the woman and say, “It's Rosa's kitchen ladies. You'd best listen to her. What she says goes.”

“They all stare at me looking totally shocked and I'm just trying not to laugh.”

Jack is laughing by now. He has a good laugh. I love it. I really really do.

“So I sit at the counter while the girls learn the ropes and anytime someone gets frustrated or something goes wrong, I just share one of my stories, because there's no mistake they've made that I haven't made at least two or three times. And soon everyone is laughing and having a blast. I only stayed for the first two lessons for the first two groups. I felt like everyone knew each other well enough to get along fine after that.”

“Peacemaker.” Jack tells me.

I think about that. “Maybe. Most people have some good in them. I like to try and get along if I can. Made lots of great friends this year.” I frowned. I was really going to miss them. Hope I got to see them again. Hope they found somewhere safe.

“Sorry you're stuck with just me?”

“What?! No! Never!”

“Why you sad then?”

I chose the safest of my thoughts, kind of like I'd done with Mom before the flash. “Do you think the Haven folks will find somewhere safe? Somewhere they can settle?” My eyes watered with my unasked questions.

Jackson took my hand. “My company is lookin' out for them. I'm sure they'll be fine Evie. Doan worry about them.”

The combination of his words and his strong hand holding mine actually manages to reassure me, and I relax for a time, turning the music back on.

 

* * *

 


	2. AF: 207 Part 2 - At the Docks

Evie

A while later, I mentioned the things Lionel dropped off, and Jack said I should take a look through them while we were driving, see if there was anything I wanted to sort into my bugout bag.

That reminded me, the medical supplies!

I grabbed the small red duffle and pulled it in my lap. On the top was a binder filled with information sheets, some printed and some handwritten. Going back to the table of contents I saw first aid, serious injuries, illnesses, complications, and on toward the back I saw recipes. That surprised me. There were recipes in first aid?

I flipped to that section and saw herbal antibiotic ointments, burn creams, soaps, poultices to draw out infections and so on. Huh. Okay, so I hadn't really paid attention to how we did healing at Haven but I guess now the tons of requests I had to grow herbs made sense. I was always growing lavender, aloe, mint, sage, feverfew. I even grew poppies and hemp. Poppies were on my card and in every baking aisle. Some smart ass had found weed seeds as part of his “rare-seeds” assignment. At the time I'd just thought, “Whatever,” but when a man had a broken ankle and needed pain relief? Well, we took what we could get. Basil and sage healed wounds? I eyed Jack.

What kind of wounds would he be most likely to get? Would he get shot protecting me? Would I have to treat a gunshot wound? Would I have to stitch him up? What if it got infected? I felt like I might be sick.

Suddenly Jack sniffed the air and turned to me. “  _Quoi y a, bebe_?” His eyes flicked to what I was reading. “You read something that upset you?”

 _What the...?_ “You can  _smell_ my moods now?” My voice rose, sounding shrill. This was  _not_ a development I was pleased with. I knew he knew when I was aroused and angry but... frankly, a girl had to have some secrets!

“Ouais. Sometimes.” He grinned at me, totally unrepentant. “You know you smell like honeysuckle when you're aroused, that's a favorite.” He winked. “And one of the first I figured out. Roses when you're mad. That was the second. Lavender when you're sleepy, Sweet olive when you're excited, Orange blossoms when you're happy. Rosemary when you're sad.” He listed off.

I didn't know if I liked that he knew all that or if it ticked me off that he could read me so well. Probably both. With a start I realized he'd given me all those items in my bouquet each night.

“And just now Wisteria blossoms when you're scared. So tell me, what frightened you?”

Right now  _he_ was frightening me! I laughed nervously and told him that.

He chuckled. “Cause I can read you like a book?”

I glared some more.

“Seriously, Evangeline, talk to me. What'd you read that upset you?”

I thought about it for a minute, flipping through the pages. Would Jack be more likely to get sick or shot or get an infection? If I had to pick a few remedies to jot down in my bag, just a few items to pack, what should they be?

“Evie!” He barked.

“Okay!” So I told him what I was thinking, changing the “him” into “us” and waiting to see what he thought.

He eyed me, then asked, “How often you get sick?” I opened my mouth to answer but he interrupted. “Not in ideal conditions but in fall, winter, whenever.”

“Hardly ever. I had the occasional cold or flu in the winter when I was little but the last year or two...I just haven't been sick.” Unless you count being diagnosed as mentally ill. Yeah, not ever going to let him in on that joke.

He nodded. “You can skip most of the first aid instructions. I probably already know those by heart. Had lots of experience.” He gave me an odd smile, one that almost looked... menacing I remembered those taped knuckles of his when school had started and hoped he meant more than just fighting. Maybe little boy cuts and scrapes too? I hated to think of him getting into so many fights at such a young age. Then again, that meant he was even better able to protect us both now. I didn't have to like how he'd come by the experience though.

“There's a lot of herbal recipes in here for creams and salves and stuff.” I read off some of the recipes and he nodded.

“That'll come in handy too. For now, look through the bag and tell me what we've got.”

So I did, listing the contents off to Jack as I looked through them. I found large amounts of gauze pads and rolls, medical tape, duct tape, band-aids in lots of sizes, wraps, a single tube of antibiotic ointment, Benadryll, anti-diarrhea meds, a bag of seeds, coconut oil, packages of gloves, a thermometer, a long tube with a bulb at the top and a smaller one, pins, tweezers, needles and thread, a small bottle of ibuprofen and another of tylenol and strips of bark I knew were willow bark mixed with little fernlike seeds. I looked that one up. Willow bark tea brought a fever down. Okay, so in case I didn't have the time or blood or safety to grow a tree, I could boil that into a tea and it kinda worked like tylenol. Good to know.

Then I looked at Jack, wondering what he'd want me to pack. He told me we'd have to parse down our things tonight but for now, just to put some gauze, bandaids, and antibiotic ointment in his old pack. See if I could fit the seed bag in mine. I had to pull out the clothes but I did. I wasn't leaving those seeds behind. I spent the next while jotting down the few recipes Jack thought were most important and reading through the other stuff I hadn't bothered to learn but would want to know if Jack was too hurt to talk to me about how to fix him.

I concentrated on writing, but all the while I couldn't help but notice the voices in my head had stopped talking individually, to say a single phrase in sync. What was even more creepy, was that phrase was about me.

 _-The Empress is in play_ -

What the hell was that supposed to mean? I wasn't playing anything. I was just leaving home. “  _Whatever crazy cards.”_ I thought.

Ignoring the voices like I usually did, I tried to concentrate on what I was writing. The only problem was that any time I tried to write without thinking hard about exactly what I was writing, my fingers started writing, “The Empress is in play.” After scratching out that phrase or parts of it several times, I started mumbling the words I was actually trying to write. Jack gave me a look when I did, but I didn't care. It was working, and that was all I cared about.

 

Jack

She'd been reading that first aid binder for the last hour like it held the keys to salvation, mumbling and writing notes. She was hunched down in the seat, knees on the dash, biting the nails of one hand, her other poised to take notes in her notebook.

I glanced over, getting a glimpse of the page she was on, wanting to see what was so fascinating and terrifying.  _Poo-yee!_ That was all I needed. Her working herself up about how to treat me if I got shot. She scribbled some notes then flipped to the index, then flipped back. Uh-huh. Now she was on to treating shock and blood loss with herbs. Fantastic.

I cleared my throat and she jumped. “What?” she asked.

“I think maybe you need to take a break. Pack it up.” I suggested, trying to sound casual instead of irritated. I did appreciate her wanting to take care of me, but not getting herself worked up about it.

She sat up and brushed her hair back from her face. “Oh. But I need to know this stuff.”

“Uh-huh. Plenty of time for that later. Sides, we're here.”

“Here? Where's here?” She asked, looking away from the pages and out the windows, the worry lines disappearing in favor of curiosity. Good. That got her attention.

“Dry docks, where we're spending the night.”

We weren't quite out of Louisiana yet, just at the edge. Considering I'd stopped during the worst of the ash storm while she was sleeping to conserve gas, and that we didn't have to scrounge for gas on our stop, we'd made pretty good time. We could've made better if I hadn't had to drive all the way round the cities instead of going through them, taking country roads I'd mapped out. I was not taking her through slaver territory if I had any say in the matter. Even in our own state, there were problems our militia wasn't big enough to handle. Seemed like every city with a significant gang presence pre-flash turned into slaver territory post-flash. Like they all had the same brilliant ideas about how to solve their water problems. I just hoped I could find a good map of the next two states so I could do the same thing before I had to drive through a big city.

She closed up, packing it away and then continued looked around interestedly. “So, what makes this a good spot?”

I pulled closer, looking for a good find, one that might not have been picked over yet. “People forget to loot the ships in dry dock.” I didn't see anyone around, which was good. Still, that didn't mean there weren't folks hiding out. I parked then checked that my bow was ready to fire. I put on the new armband quiver. It went on with velcro but had a few snaps to make it secure. Damn, that was a nice addition. Across from me I heard Evie readying her pistol.

“It's good you know how to use that, but doan fire it unless I tell you. Sound carries and attracts attention we doan want.”

She flicked the safety on. “Got it.” She nodded.

“Stay there.” I ordered, then opened my door and quickly went to the back seat to grab my bugout bag, holding the crossbow at the ready. Then I went around to get her door. She stepped out and swung her pack on her back.

“Stick to me like a shadow, you.” I told her.

“Sure thing, Handsome.”

I did a double take, not expecting that from her, but she just winked and put a hand on my side, opposite my pack, literally staying in my shadow. “  _Ma bonne fille_  .” I said softly, reaching back to give her wrist a squeeze, then moving on. Her thumb stroked my side. So fucking sweet. I could not wait to get her in bed tonight.

I found the one I liked and pointed it out. She didn't complain about the rusted and shabby appearance, again just asking why I liked it. She was trying to learn, or maybe figure out why I saw things the way I did. I was happy to teach her. She could help me scout out locations later.

“Were you a scrounger in the militia?” She asked as we toted a ladder over to the shrimp boat.

“Every man learns to scrounge in the militia. I was one of the better ones though.” I admitted.

“I'll bet you were.” I could hear the appreciation in her tone and it warmed my insides. I glanced back at her while checking out the surroundings and gave her a wink and a grin. She flushed. I loved that I could get to her but damn she was distracting. I needed to get her up on that ship and out of my view and everyone else's.

The ship was perfect. A ready made PEWS system, again something Evie wanted to know all about, a kitchen with food still stocked inside. I bet there was still some water in the tanks. The captain's cabin was all made up too. It'd been sealed so it wasn't covered with ash. Evie dumped her bag in there after seeing the large bed. I set my bag there too. I could hardly wait for later but I had work to do first.

 

Evie

It amazed me how Jack's mind worked. Everything revolved around finding supplies and safety. As we entered the ship yard our conversation centered around what made a good place to stay for the night. Height and somewhere bagmen couldn't get into. Apparently they couldn't climb ladders. Also somewhere others didn't think of was a bonus.

Then once we were on deck I learned about PEWS, Perimeter Early Warning System. He'd grinned because the shrimp and oyster shells were a ready made, if stinky PEWS. “Other things work too. You can crush up light bulbs outside your door, any kind of glass. A groaning staircase works just as well. That's part of the reason I always roll two-story houses. When I'm driving, you're goan to be looking for places for us to overnight, so keep that in mind.”

“Gotcha. You're kinda a wiz at this stuff huh?”

“I spent my whole life watching my six. No one ever gets the drop on me.”

“Your six?”

“My back.”

His whole life. His  _whole_ life? Something about that struck me as wrong. He shouldn't have had to watch his back that long. When had the danger started? Ten? Eight? Six? Who was hurting him? Why wasn't someone protecting my Jack? He wasn't looking at me as he said any of that though. He prowled ahead of me, while I was still processing what he'd said.

We found plenty of cabins with the beds already made up. They were all singles except for the Captain's cabin. I set my pack down in there, signaling my decision. Jack gave me a smile and set his down by mine, putting the crossbow down too and giving me a quick kiss. Then he picked it back up and tagged my hand, pulling me along to search through the ship behind him.

Once we'd looked through every nook and cranny we returned to the galley and Jack started opening doors and cabinets. When I saw him opening doors I started doing the same to distract myself. We found a few dozen cans of soup, a few boxes of crackers, discount club packs of bottled water, sacks of beef jerky and a bottle of Captain Morgan's rum. I was pretty impressed.

“Knew this one was a beauty when I first saw it. I got a sense of these things. Now doan get me wrong—no place is one hundred percent safe. You always got to be on your guard.”

I hummed in agreement and nodded. I couldn't imagine how anyone could scale this tanker once he'd pulled the ladder up. He turned to face me, his tone sounded a bit agitated.

“I'm sure this ain't exactly what you're used to-as far as ships go-but it's a find all the same.”

My brows drew together. I looked at him from across the table. “It's a fine place you found. I've got no problem with it. This is a ton of food. But how would you know what I'm used to?”

He looked at me skeptically. “I got ways. Besides, rich girl like you, beau like Brandon, I'm sure you've been on finer than this.”

It was true, I had. The last boat I'd been on was the Radcliffes' seven-figure yacht called Billable Hours. But how would Jackson know?

Brandon had told me he'd had his phone stolen with all the rest at my party. I'd figured Lionell had it. Brandon had a folder of pictures of me on that phone, lots of them taken on spring break before I'd spent my summer at CLC. That spring break had been primarily on that yacht. Many of those pics had been in a bikini. Brandon did not passcode protect his phone, no matter how much I bugged him about that.

In the haze of preparing Haven and the people there, worrying about Jack, I'd pushed the whole phone theft thing from my mind. Did Jack have Brandon's phone?!

I was stunned into silence, just staring at him in shock, the ramifications of that possibility tumbling through my mind.

Jackson checked the kitchen faucet. When it actually produced water, Jackson explained, “From the tanks. You can't drink it, but you can grab a shower.”

“Shower?” I revived somewhat.

“ _Ouais_. You open a couple cans for us, and I'll go unload the car.”

“Thank you.” I whispered in a daze.

“  _De rein, ma belle._ ”

He turned to go and I picked up a can of soup. He'd left the room before what he said hit me. He was going to go unload the car...by himself? While I fixed soup?

I ran after him, catching him as he was about to put down the ladder.

“Jack!”

“What?”

“You're going to unload the car?”

“Ouais. Still got some gas, food and supplies I wouldn't want anyone else getting on the off chance anyone's living round this area. Not about to lose what you worked so hard to stock for us, Evie.”

Okay, I could see that, but there was a lot of stuff there. And hauling it all up the side of the ship's ladder by himself? “Can I come help you? I don't want you down there by yourself either.”

He grinned at me like he thought I was funny and set the ladder back down on the deck, his arms coming around me. “  _Fille_ , anyone sees me, they'll think I ain't worth messing with. I'm too scary, even if I do have supplies they'd like. They see you?” He pushed my hair back from my face and stroked a finger down my temple to my jaw. “They might risk it just cause you're a pretty girl.” His grin faded and he turned serious. “Women are rare after the flash. Pretty ones like you? Non, not ever goan to risk your safety, not for a few supplies. I'll watch my own back. You want to help in the future, you'll need a hat, some clothes that doan make you look like the  _bonne fille_ you are from a mile away.”

I frowned, seeing his point. But still... “I can't help at all?”

He gave my nose a tap, then offered, “I'll bring up the winter gear first. You search through that for a cap, put it on. Then you can stand guard from up top. Keep a look out for me. That make you feel better?”

“Yes.  _Merci_.”

He kissed my nose and grinned, then put down the ladder and nearly flew down it, jogging to the car. I stood at the top and watched, worrying. It was getting dark. How dark would it get before bagmen started showing? My pistol sat at the small of my back but I didn't pull it out, remembering what Jack said about not firing it unless he said. A yell wouldn't carry as far and he'd hear that just fine.

When all the bags, water, some of our food, and the few gallons of gas we had left were on deck, Jack locked the car and jogged to the ladder with the last load. I stood at the edge of the shrimp boat, gun in hand, keeping a look out. My hair was tucked in a knit cap as small streaks of pink edged the horizon. Jack jumped over the edge of the ship, dropped the last load on the deck and pulled the ladder up. Then he stalked toward me, taking my gun, checking the safety and shoving it in the back of his pants under the crossbow still slung across his back.

He hauled me to him and kissed me hard, giving me an unfathomable look before saying, “ _Tu protégeas moi six. Merci, ma chére.”_ You guarded my six. Thanks my darling.

I blushed. I didn't know why, but all I said was, “ _Toujours, Jack_.” -Always, Jack.

He gave me one of those heated looks then kissed me deep again before turning me around by the shoulders and smacking my ass. “Go fix us some soup  _bébé_ , while I get these moved somewhere they won't stink in the morning.”

I laughed at that and left, but grabbed two bags, carrying them part of the way and dropping them by the galley which was near our bedroom. “Mm-mm-mm. Could get used to this view.” Jack said in a low voice from behind me. I turned from setting down the bags to find him staring at my ass. I flushed, remembering how we'd first met, then slowly stood. Well, they said every man had a favorite body part. Maybe that was his?

I went into the galley to peruse the cans of soup, wondering what he would like. There were just over a dozen. Seemed like a windfall, but I knew from experience feeding the men on Haven that men like Jack would burn through this in no time. We used lots of fresh food on the farm so we didn't always count calories. Fats were helpful and not plentiful after the flash. This was why we grew so many nut trees, they were high in fat and filling. I selected a can of minestrone soup, wincing at the calorie count. Two hundred.

Two cans. And some of the bread Jack made before it got too stale. Soup would soften it up though. That still amazed me that he could make bread. A-maz-ing.

I'd make sure to feed him some nuts along the way tomorrow. And some apples and oranges. I'd try to grow some food soon though, I'd insisted on sending all but a few fresh fruits with the Haven folks, knowing I could grow more easily than they could.

If I could supplement our canned supply, it would last longer. Maybe two and a half weeks. We wouldn't starve though, not so long as I had blood in my body and seeds in my pack. I'd keep those close on me. I thought about transferring some to Jack's bag, just in case the worst happened and we got separated. He wouldn't like the idea, but it would make  _me_ feel better.

Just as he returned from dumping another load in the hall, I cut myself on the rim of the second can.

“Eck, girl.” He seized my hand. “You're bleeding.”

Somehow, even though we'd already had sex three times, just him holding my hand was enough to make my stomach quiver.  _He's holding my hand! I like it when he holds my hand._

I didn't care about the cut. I only regretted there wasn't a bowl to catch it in or a seed to put the blood on. It was wasted! “Eh, no biggie.” And it wasn't. I was used to doing this on purpose to a major vein to try and spill a full cup or more. This was a finger. It was kinda funny he was making a fuss.

“Let me see.” Jack demanded. He held up my finger, sticking it into his mouth like I was a little kid. His heated eyes held mine and that was anything but childish.

 _H-h-hot._  He sucked on my fingertip and lathed it with his tongue. His arm pulled my waist close to his in a loose embrace that became firm when I squirmed. One of his legs shifted to slide between mine and he pulled me closer. “I-it's nothing. Really. It's probably fine by now.” I was a wicked quick healer.

_Crap! I was a quick healer!_

I tried to pull my hand back but he didn't let go. His eyes held mind with a humor that said he knew exactly what he'd been doing to me moments before.

He inspected it again. “Bleeding's stopped.” He frowned. “Looks nearly fine actually.”

I pulled again and this time he let it go. My hands came to rest on his arms. The strength of his biceps combined with his thigh between mine and my breasts against his chest was causing a riot of sensations inside me. “Right. Um. Thanks.” My voice quavered.

He backed me into the counter and with hands under my arms, lifted me up on it, shoving my thighs apart roughly, then stepping quickly between then. Then my ass was in his hands he'd pulled me back to pulled me more firmly into him. Then his head dipped down and his lips met mine in a questioning kiss. When I melted into him, my arms going around his neck and my legs meeting behind his back to hug him closer to me, the kiss became searing. His tongue thrust into me and a hard ridge ground into my center as he pulled me to the very edge of the countertop, grinding his hips into mine. He took his time though, he wasn't rushing, he wasn't driving me out of my mind with lust, even though he was making me feel incredibly good. His movements were deliberate, like he was trying to show me something, but I didn't know what. All I knew was that I loved every second of it and I wanted to be as close to Jack as I could get for as long as possible.

When he stopped kissing me senseless he leaned back just enough to look into my eyes and told me gently, “You know, Evangeline, you can tell me anything, trust me with anything. It woan change how I feel about you.”

My breath caught. After what he'd seen this morning, he was saying this? What did he suspect? And wait? What did he feel? “How do you feel about me?” I whispered back.

He kept a hand at my waist but the other drifted into my hair, sifting through and then holding fast at the nape of my neck so I couldn't look away from his intense gray gaze. “I think you're the most  _bonne fille_  I ever seen or ever will see, but you're also likely the sweetest, both in the way you taste and in the way you are. You care about folks, about me, in a way that's rare, Evangeline. You make me want to keep you beside to me and never let you go.”

He frowned a bit. “You also got secrets, some dangerous ones. Ones that might get us both killed if I doan know what I need to know.” I swallowed hard. He was not wrong and that was exactly what I was afraid of. He kept speaking. “I want you to trust me with as many of them as you can going forward. I know that's hard for you. But you got a puzzle to solve and you got people, I doan know how many, after you. I  _need_  to help you figure this out. Let me help you,  _ma belle_.”

 

 

I'd murmured my accent, but not promised anything beyond that I'd think over what I could tell him, kissed him, and we'd turned to the business of supper; soup and more of Jack's bread. Then he'd told me, “Why doan you go grab a shower? Take some time to think. Jus' remember to save me some water and not to drink any of it. Ain't safe.”

I'd nodded and gathered up some clothes to sleep in and some travel shower things I'd packed. I put the whole bunch in a couple small bowls I'd scrounged in the kitchen, hoping I could gather enough water to wash our clothes. Laundry water didn't have to be perfectly clean, just clean enough to wash the dust and grit out, with a clean rinse water to get all the rest out.

I took the flashlight with me to the small bathroom, but saw Jack had already set his up by a cramped fiberglass stall. The drain was covered with little bottles of shampoo and slivers of Irish Spring soap. I collected those, setting them aside for Jack if he wanted to use them. I set up the open containers at my feet to catch the runoff water.

There was a paltry stream of tepid water. No telling how much there actually was in the tanks. I got myself wet, getting as much of the run off into the first basin as I could, then turned off the water and scrubbed myself up with my soap from Haven. There were rose petals and lavender blossoms pressed into the homemade bar. I leaned my head against the wall, trying not to cry. No more Haven. I knew they weren't dead, but it felt like I was mourning them anyway. I felt like I'd never see them again. My shoulders shook with silent sobs. Better out now in private than later with Jackson around.

I sniffed back the tears and didn't notice my nose tingling at first, but when my head began to hurt I realized what was happening. Black dots traced before by eyes. Matthew!?

My headache grew in intensity and I pressed the heel of one soapy hand to my temple as my nose dripped blood on the shower tiles.

“They know, Empress.” Matthew said.

Matthew was here! Inside the shower stall with me! I turned around, giving him my back. “Matthew! Boundaries!” I hissed, but he didn't seem to notice I was naked. He just looked at my face.

“The Empress is in play,” He said. “The Arcana sense it, like a disturbance in the Force.”

I was shaken and out of sorts. And naked. Let's not forget naked. I sighed and tried to focus. I'd deal later.  _The force? Star Wars reference. Well, his playroom was decked out in the stuff. Made sense I guessed. “_ Okay...and?”

I tried to focus on the point past the blinding pain. It was never easy. My main goal was to remember his words and sort them out later. Sometimes they made more sense later when I thought about them. Some days, when I was feeling low, I wondered why Matthew put up with someone as utterly clueless as me. He used to make more sense earlier, closer to the flash. These days, I understood less and less of his visits. But I always told him he was my friend, sometimes my brother. And I always promised I'd come for him. He'd tell me I was his only friend. Maybe that was why.

“You're a target.  _Take her before she grows too powerful,_ the bad cards whisper. But you talked so loud they thought you wanted to lure them to your farm.” He tapped his temple. “Beware the lures.”

His words spurred a memory from my last day with Gran: “ _I hate taking you from home sweetheart,” she told me as she pulled her Blazer out onto the interstate. “Only the bravest—or most foolish—Arcana would ever go to Haven, home of the great Empress....”_

“I talked loud? I thought I could only talk to you?” I was not only receiving voices...but  _broadcasting_ my own? Yes I had yelled at the other voices to shut the hell up when they'd grown so loud I couldn't sleep. Who wouldn't? But I never dreamed, never imagined they would have  _heard_ me. They didn't talk back like Matthew did.

Matthew frowned. “ _No one_  is as loud as you. They talk back louder, goading.”

Well crap. “So I'm clairvoyant?”

“Clair _audient._ All Arcana have a call. Like birds. I'm crazy like a fox.”

“You're not crazy Matthew. You're smart. I just don't understand.” I said softly. I hated that anyone would think that of him.

“Crazy like a fox, crazy because I see too much, wise like a fox, my call.”

“Oh...You mean that's what people hear from you? Like I heard the Lovers say -We will Love you, in our own way- when they were getting near me?”

“You're listening.”

I rested the side of my head against the tile, still watching him over my shoulder. Figuring this stuff out with Matthew was like a bad skit from Abbott and Costello, but when he told me, “You're listening,” I knew I'd understood something right, and that he was proud I'd understood.

“So the Arcana heard me calling loudly and that's why they were practically shouting every night...but how do I call softer?”

In a patronizing tone he replied, “Inside voice, Evie.”

 _And I was back to square one. So frustrating. Argh._  I squeezed my eyes shut and softly tapped my head twice on the hard tiles. The pain helped me focus, oddly enough. I didn't understand and this was so simple to him. Moving on. Matthew was giving me a concerned look. “Why would they want to goad me? What have I done to them?”

“You're Arcana.”

“And? You're Arcana too, but you don't goad me.”

“I'm your friend, ally. They aren't. Bad cards never will be.”

“So I need to build allies. What about Death? You said he wasn't a bad card, but he coveted me. Could he ever be an ally? He scares me.”

“He should scare you. He wants to... _touch_  you.”

I shivered, still cold, naked and soapy. My arms hugged my breasts as I pressed against the tiles, the side of my face against the tiles and looking over my shoulder at Matthew. His eyes never left mine thankfully.

That didn't sound good. “What happens if he touches me?”

“His power.”

What would have happened if Death had touched me that night in the sugar cane fields in my dream? “If he touches me in a dream, would I die?”

Matthew shrugged, then looked behind him, and back to me. “Arcana and non-arcana mix poorly. Arcana means secrets. Keep ours.”

Oh-kay. Guess now he was moving on. To Jack? “Jack's my friend, Matthew. He's a good man. He'd never hurt me, or you.”

“He hurts when he helps.”

I'd heard this before. “Maybe so, but at least he's helping. And you know, you hurt when you help too. These visions come at a price. They aren't exactly pain free but you don't see me complaining.” My tone was biting, my teeth chattering. I was reaching the end of my tolerance, both with the migraine, and with Matthew's sudden desire to find fault with Jack.

Matthew just shook his head, disagreeing with me, telling me again, louder. “He hurts when he helps. You need to dream, to listen Empress! You're behind! Your foes laugh.”

He knew Jack was keeping the dreams away and he thought that was a bad thing? “I need sleep, Matthew! I need to for once not dream of a psychopath killing innocent people in hideous, gruesome ways!”

My migraine was getting worse and Matthew's face was set on stubborn. “Dreams teach arsenal. You need arsenal to survive foes! Empress, you're behind! He hurts when he helps! Keep our secrets!

His eyes were nearly wild, so I promised, “Alright Matthew, I'll keep your secrets. I already promised I would. But my secrets are mine to share or keep as I choose.”

His face softened, just a hair. Then he said quietly, but with intensity, “Find me Empress. Before Death finds you.”

“I'm on my way Matthew. As fast as we can. But what happens if Death finds us first?”

“He'll touch you both.”

And with that ominous statement, he was gone.

I blinked then hastily finished rinsing the soap away as quickly as I could, frustrated that my hair was taking so long, but using my hair to aim the water easily into a bowl. As I washed I thought over what he'd said.

I remembered always feeling sad for Death when I studied his card. What would it be like to be Death? To never be able to touch another living being without killing them? I loved cuddles. And his horse was sick. He had no friends. Must suck to be him. I couldn't fathom that possibility.

But Matthew's statement, that Death would touch us both? That meant Jack's death, something I'd never allow. Determination to reach Matthew as soon as possible filled me.

I turned off the water and wrung out my hair into the rinse bowl. Soapy water to wash the clothes aim and score for the win. Feeling proud and pleased with myself got out, wishing I had a towel. I scraped my arms and legs off into the rinse water bowl too.

Even though we'd spent the day in the car, ash from the storms had a way of infiltrating things in a way you wouldn't expect. By the end of a day on the road, our clothes were pretty dusty, which means they really needed washing and on a trip like this, I wasn't about to let the laundry pile up, especially when I didn't know where we'd find water next. Regardless, my efforts at cleaning the clothes would be better than packing ashy dirty clothes next to my clean clothes in the same bag. It seemed like a mundane thing to focus on, but right now, after talking about Death and and cards who wanted to 'goad' me, I desperately needed mundane.

Moderately dry I searched for towels. Found none, so I put on my clean clothes while damp. Oh well. I carried out the soapy wash water.

I found Jackson again. He was sorting out his new pack and his old pack.

“Shower's free.”

“Bon. Any water left?”

“Yeah. Don't know how much.” I told him about my rinse bowl, asking him to finish filling it if there was any water left. He looked utterly shocked.

“What?” I asked.

“Just didn't expect you to be so resourceful is all.”  
“I can't cook. So I became a laundry mistress instead. I learned stuff.”

“Ouais. I can tell.” Now he looked at me appraising. I took a step back, uncomfortable.

“What?”

He started to strip. First boots, then socks, then shirt. I watched with undisguised fascination, feeling like I could barely take a breath.

“You keep lookin' at me like that,  _bébé_ , we'll be havin' round three of the day right here an' now.”

I spun around, flustered at being called out on ogling him. He laughed. But as I listened to his pants come off I questioned why I'd bothered to turn around at all? It wasn't like I hadn't seen it yet... I could feel the blush heating my cheeks though, and I was terribly hot.

Then Jack came up behind me, wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed my neck, letting me feel his full naked length against my back, his hardness pressing against my ass in a way I couldn't help but notice. “Tonight then?” He asked softly, still kissing my neck, now playing with the outer curves of my breasts.

My hands came up under his arms to caress his bare arms and shoulders. “Tonight.” I echoed, turning my head for a lingering kiss.

Jack found me in the kitchen, finishing up the wash. I'd strung up my clothesline in the kitchen, then put the soapy bowl of water in the sink and washed our clothes while going over my talks with Matthew and Jack. Matthew seemed to not want me to tell Jack anything at all, but Jack clearly wanted to know every last secret I had, so where was the balance? How much was enough, or too much? What did Jack need to know and what would break the trust Matthew had placed in me?

So nothing about being able to talk with Matthew, or that he could see past, present and future. His sign, Crazy like a Fox.

Should I tell him about the other voices I heard and what they said? The other clues Matthew gave me? Maybe Jack could make some sense out of them.

Maybe...yes. Because since the voices were tied to the cards, that meant I was close to whomever I could hear. Which meant we'd know which arcana were nearby. That was valuable information, especially if the cards were enemies, like the Lovers.  
But this meant telling him about the voices in my head. The classic sign of crazy. I shook my head as I rinsed out a shirt from the soapy water and set it aside in the sink. Mega bad idea. I didn't want my boyfriend to know I was crazy, or had ever been deemed crazy. What would he think of Matthew when he met him?

I sighed, setting aside Jack's sock. This would not end well. I could just feel it.

Jack set a bowl of water on the counter beside the sink, startling me. I jumped and squealed. He laughed and put his arms around my waist. He was naked from the waist up, and I liked his heat surrounding me as his chin rested on my head, then his jaw nuzzled my temple.

“What're you sighing over Evangeline? Not unhappy are you?” He kissed behind my ear and down my neck, raising chills and making me shiver.

“No, not unhappy.” I whispered as my head fell back against his chest.

“What is it then?” His big palm came up to cradle my cheek and turn it so he could look down into my eyes.

“Just...wondering how you're going to react when you find out...”

“One of your secrets? I'll be fucking thrilled!”

My brows rose. “Seriously?”

“Ouais!” He was so serious I could tell he wasn't joking, but I didn't get why he'd feel so strongly about this.

“But why? What if they're bad? Or ugly?”

Now he huffed out a breath, then he backed away and pulled out a chair and sat, pulling me with him, wet hands and all. He had me straddle him so I was face to face, just inches away. I wiped my wet hands on my pants, then let him pull my arms around his neck.

“Evangeline, what you got to understand is that any secret of yours that you gift to me is a bit more of yourself that you trust me with. And that's goan to be precious to me, doesn't matter how ugly you  _think_ it is. I'll still want it. You think there isn't bad shit in my past? Like that night you were in my home on the bayou? There's a hundred nights like that I'd never want you to see, but if you needed to know about them to keep you safe, I'd tell you.”

“Ignorance in a dangerous world like this will get you killed. Now I know a lot of things, but we've both come to understand that there's something about those tarot cards that's working in the world right now. So whatever knowledge you have about that, even if you don't understand it, that's something I need to know. We'll put the pieces together, keep each other safe. You with me  _ma bonne fille?”_

I took few deep breaths and nodded. “I'm with you, Jack.” He was making the Robinson Crusoe argument. Robinson Crusoe, because of his ignorance, had done several stupid things that had led to poor consequences. He'd fainted when he'd needed to work, bailing water from a sinking ship, he'd lost his clothes because he didn't know about tides, he'd overloaded his raft and lost valuable supplies...the list went on. Jack didn't want to be caught off guard. I could respect that. He was even making the same arguments I'd made in my head.

When I didn't say anything else he canted his head and asked, “Are you?”

“Yeah, I am. I'm just...It's just...” I looked to the side a blew out a breath before looking back at him. Finding his eyes a bit too piercing to look at I gazed at his mouth instead, then at his strong shoulders where my hands began to move softly. I spoke nearly on a whisper. “You have to know, most of these things, I've never told  _anyone_. Or if I did, I regretted it. So I never spoke about it again.”

His hands rubbed my back soothingly, squeezing my waist firmly when they reached that spot, or giving my shoulders a light rub, trying to relax me. I leaned forward and rested my cheek on his shoulder, sighing. I still had laundry to finish. And I didn't want to look at him while I talked about this.

Looking at his shoulder I told him quietly, “You grab my notebook, pen and tarot cards. I'll finish laundry. We'll talk while I work.”

He gave me a squeeze. “If that's how you want it.”

I nodded, hugging his shoulders and neck, then letting go and allowing his strong hands to stand me up.

When he came back I kept my back to him, rinsing out the clothes as I talked about how Arcana cards each had a sort of call sign that seemed to tell something about who the were or how they'd fight. Maybe how their power worked. And how if an Arcana could hear that sign, it meant they were close by. I ignored that he'd figure out that this would mean that  _I_ was Arcana, and told him what I could anyway. I omitted Matthew's call sign, listing all the others I'd heard and could remember, hearing the pen scratch and Jack wrote them down without comment.

My entire body shook as I wrung out clothes. I did  _not_ want to tell him these things. It was too much information to a man who could deduce so much.

It was only a matter of time before he figured out that I was the Empress. And when that time came, I was sure he'd never want another thing to do with me.  
  
\---------------------------------  
Hi all.  I posted!  :-)  I think I can give you one or maybe two more before the 6th.  We'll see.  I hope you enjoy the chapter.  Migraines and winter illnesses and winter holidays made writing exceedingly slow going.

 

* * *

5/11/2015  And we're all caught up!  Moving on!

 


	3. 207 A.F.  A night on the ship

 

****Jack** **

 

Well, that had gone much better than I'd expected. I had a notepad with several phrases listed. Some seemed innocuous and others were downright scary. Evangeline had been vague about giving her information, but I could feel the pieces clicking into place.

Before I'd come back to the boat's kitchen, I took a moment to flip through what she'd written in the car today. I'd been surprised to find a single phrase scratched out several times throughout her medicinal notes she'd written earlier in the car.

 ~~The Empress is~~     ~~The Empre~~     ~~in play~~.     ~~is in play.~~     ~~Empress is in pl~~     ~~The Emp~~

She'd scratched each phrase and partial phrase out but it was clear it was on her mind for some reason.

 _The Empress is in play._ I'd already decided Evangeline was the Empress. If she was in play, what did that mean? Was it good, or bad? The tarot deck I'd scrounged when I was with the militia only had fortune telling instructions.  Could you play a game with the the cards like with a regular card deck?

If Evie was the Empress and there were other card kids out there, just what kind of game were they playing? Had I forced her to enter it by warning her to leave Haven?

Didn't really matter though. Wasn't like she could stay where she was. Least she had me with her her. I flipped to a clear page in a new section and sat at the table to take the notes, the deck of cards beside me. She'd started off well enough, but she'd grown more shaky as she'd gone on. I could hear it in her voice and see in in her movements. Now that she'd finished, she was visibly trembling.

It was painful to watch. She was wearing my shirt for her pajamas again tonight. It hung down to her thighs, but with the way she trembled, it dance, which stirred a flame inside my gut.  Hell, just seeing her effected me.  The wash was all hung but for our jeans. I went over to the sink where she was squeezing them out. I fenced her in and pulled her hair away from her neck, placing a kiss there.

“Want some help?”

“Please.” She leaned back into me, some of her tension easing. “You'll always do a better job wringing out heavy denim than I will.”

I chuckled, happy to help with the heavier chore, and lifted an arm to let her by. When I'd finished squeezing out the jeans, she was waiting by the line, showing me where she wanted them.

Then I tagged her hand and pulled her over to the table where I sat down in the chair I'd been in before near my notes. I tugged her into my lap and held her close, holding her firmly so her long thighs were draped across mine. I rubbed my hand up and down her back and kept a heavy arm across both her legs. She hadn't quite stopped shaking yet, but she moved right on to the notebook anyway, picking up some of the cards and placing them near the notebook, setting others aside.

I loved how she felt in my lap. I rubbed her shoulders, betting she was tired and stressed after talking about all that. Plus, I needed her in a better mood if we were going to have sex later. That'd be a much better way to end our first night on the road. I wanted to reward her for sharing her secrets, not have her all stressed out from the experience. I thought about playing with her hair, which I knew she liked, but it was still wet and a bit tangled from her shower. My hand at the back of her neck, rubbing gently, I asked, “Any idea which cards go with which phrases?”

“Some, yes. Others, no idea. And there's four parts to this.” She said to my surprise.

_“Ouais?”_

“Well, sure. There's the tarot card and the phrase,” She picked up the Devil card and pointed out what I'd written, reading - _I'll make a feast of your bones! Suck the marrow dry as you watch.-_ “Then there's their real name, Ogen, and how they really look in this world.” She sighed again. “I'll need to draw sketches of the ones I know. That way you'll know them if you see them. Hopefully you won't have to.”

Her shaking hadn't stopped. In fact, it had grown worse. Her teeth were chattering. This was enough for now. So I wrapped her up tight in my arms as I kissed and nipped the sensitive spots on her neck and neck to her ear, then made my way to her mouth. She didn't pull away from me, just tilted her head back, opened and held a bit stiff at first. Her breathing was still too fast and not in a good way. She still scented more of fear than arousal, but she was receptive, tilting her head to meet mine and her arms wrapped around me tight. I rubbed her long, smooth legs with my hand, tracing small circles on the outer edge of her thighs, then moved higher, just inside the hem of my old shirt, rubbing softly first to get a gauge on her willingness. I grinned into her mouth as her arousal heightened.

Still, I wanted to check. Kissing my way to her ear I whispered, “You alright, _ma_ _chére?_

She shivered and whispered back, “I wasn't, but I'm getting there. It's always better when you're holding me.”

I grinned at her answer. “Just holding you?” I noticed her nipple was hardening so I edged my hand up her waist outside the green shirt, gripping her waist, then slowly sliding up. I traced the side and lower edges as I kissed her, testing her response.   My heart sped up, thrilled when she arched into my touch, opening her mouth wider to mine. I stiffened against her thigh. _Elle était frayant quand, ma belle blonde_.   _-She was so very sexy, my beautiful blond_.  I began to imagine her mouth was a different opening and my tongue swept in farther, exploring.

I covered her breast farthest away from me in my palm, trapping that bud between two fingers and then closing them, leaving the soft tip trapped between my knuckles. I pulled away just a bit and she gasped into my mouth, her fingers curling into my side. I loved that she wasn't wearing a bra right now. I pressed in again, massaging what I held. I could feel the beat of her heart behind my hand.  I pinched that hard bud, and rolled it between my finger and thumb, tugging again.

“Jack!”  Her hand flew to my arm, but she didn't push me away.

“Ouais?” I started to pull my hand away from her breast teasingly but her hand flew from around my arm to press my palm back to her breast and her eyes met mine, suddenly changing from aroused to serious.

“Jack. Being in your arms, no matter what we are or aren't doing,” She gave me a half smile before continuing, “is the safest place I've ever been. When I'm here, I feel like nothing and no one could ever touch me. Like...I can finally see and think clearly for the first time in years! You make me feel alive in a way I never have before.”

My chest swelled with the compliments and the fact that she felt safe with me. The corner of my mouth tipped up, but a more cynical part of me couldn't help but wonder, “You sure this isn't just the sex talking?” I asked, only half joking.

She snorted a laugh and smacked my shoulder. “Yes, you jerk! It isn't just the sex talking. Besides, if I'd wanted sex, I could've had that ages ago.”

I raised my brows, inviting more information, no matter how little I wanted to hear it. I had no doubt she could have had anyone she wanted.

“There were...others...who showed interest. After the flash.” She told me, then looked down shyly. I knuckled her chin up till her eyes met mine.

“And? Did you date any of them?”  I asked.  Tee-bo could have been wrong.  Folks had secret lovers, wasn't unheard of.

She shook her head, her eyes never leaving mine. “I didn't have to. All I had to do was talk with them and it was obvious.” She shrugged.

Did I have to drag this out of her? “What was obvious, _ma belle_ ?”

She drew a shaky breath, her eyes flitting away and then back to me when my fingers left her chin to stroke her cheek, turning her face gently back to me. “That none of them came anywhere close to being as right for me as you were.” Her body was trembling again, full body tremors as she spoke, her voice full of passion and her eyes deep blue pools I wanted to drown in. “None of them had even a tenth of the fire, or smarts, or passion that you did, or that we would have had together.” She gave a defiant shrug. “So I didn't bother wasting time with them. They never would have measured up.”

I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face. Tee-bo had been right. She really had been mine all along. I'd known it too, but hearing it from her own lips? That made my chest puff up like a rooster and my dick swell to previously unknown proportions.

“ _Ma bonne belle fille_ . I waited for you too.” I told her, then picked her up, grinning when she squealed and carried her off to the captain's cabin. The rest of that shit could wait. My girl deserved some loving and I needed to give it to her extra good.

\---------------------

 

**Evie**

I hadn't been sure what to expect after I'd told Jack about the Arcana calls, but that talk had me so nervous that by the end of it I was shaking like a leaf, barely able to finish squeezing out the laundry. I just knew he'd figure out I was hearing these voices all the time, that I really was crazy. That I was Arcana, someone he should be running away from, not traveling with.

Jack had to finish. He would have had to finish anyway though. Heavy denim is just too tough for a girl's grip, even mine. You'd think pole dancing would have helped more, but no. Jack still did better than me. Didn't matter. The look on his face when I asked him to help was worth it. Men like that I've learned. Something about us women needing their manly strength, and appreciating it, makes them feel appreciated, which is something they need. Sounds redundant, but the older women at Haven who had men swore by it.

After laundry was done, Jack pulled me over to the table and I clarified a bit more about what I'd told him. Then he felt the need to kiss me, which I wasn't ever going to complain about, though I was surprised he didn't press for more info now that I was finally opening up. That turned into me telling him how I felt about him, which apparently he liked rather a lot, because he stood up, nearly tipping the chair over and hoisting me higher in his arms. Then he tossed me up and over his shoulder and stalked out of the room!

“Jack!” I yelped, pushing up on his waist. What a head rush.

He smacked my ass, which made me yelp again, then slipped his hand under my night shirt and pulled off my panties! Then he fondled my ass as he walked, his other arm firmly around my legs.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I got some appreciation to show. _Ma belle_ watched my six, washed our clothes, shared some secrets that I know were damn hard for her to do, and told me how she feels about me. Was goan to wait for bedtime...” A finger slipped inside me, pressing down on somewhere that felt exceedingly good. I moaned and grabbed his sides as I shivered. His finger became two and started thrusting, hitting that spot each time. I gasped and shuddered, holding on for dear life.

He chuckled “But now seems like a great time to get started.”

I couldn't exactly disagree, except for the head rush. I was nearly there when I was tossed on the bed and Jack came down on the bed between my legs. “Need a taste of you, fille. You always taste so fucking sweet.”

He shucked off his clothes and came to lay on the bed next to me, his head between my legs, resting his head on my thigh. Then his fingers were back inside me and his mouth was on my clit and doing oh so wonderful things to me.

One thing was different about this time though. This time he wasn't crouched between my legs, but stretched out beside me. So when my eyes fluttered open I got an eye full and suddenly several crucial pieces of Mel's advice came rushing back to mind.

Things about it being easier to swallow and deep throat from a sixty nine position, that I wouldn't taste it as much, the deeper it was in my throat. Pretending it was a lollypop, that sort of thing. And after all the oral attention Jack had given me between my legs, I had to admit to being kinda curious. So I leaned forward and still shuddering from the pleasure Jack was giving me, I put an arm around his waist, and then gave a small lick.

He froze, everywere. Then groaned. “Evangeline. _Bébé._ ”

Then he redoubled his assault between my legs and I forgot about my curiosity because just like that I was seeing stars. I clung to his waist, my cheek pressed to his cock and his abs as I shuddered and gasped, and then he was pulling away from me and his face was next to mine, his lips on mine. And he was telling me, “Sometime very soon, we're goan to explore everything you want to and more, but for now, I got to be inside you. _Bon_ ?”

I grinned and nodded. Then he was rolling me over and pulling my hips up, nudging my knees apart and thrusting inside hard. I cried out, amazed.

He froze, hands on my hips. “Am I hurting you?”

I pushed up on my hands, looking back at him. “No. You just felt _so_ deep. It was... _amazing_ .” And maybe it had hurt just a little. But I kinda liked it. He grinned back at me. Then his hand stroked up my back to between my shoulder blades and he pushed down until my elbows gave and my face rested back on the mattress. His hand slid higher and gripped my nape for a moment, them smoothed my hair to one side, twisting it gently out of the way and resting his hand on it. His other hand still on my hip, he thrust again.

“Good?” He asked.

I thought about it. I couldn't move my head, but I was so blissed from the orgasm he'd given me that I didn't want to. I could see him over my shoulder and he looked so amazingly sexy driving into me up there. Yeah, I was pinned, but again, his arms were the safest place in the world. I didn't want to go anywhere.

“I'm great.” I told him, smiling.

He grinned the most sexy grin I think I'd ever seen him give me, and then he started driving deep thrusts that made me cry out with pleasure.

He paused. “I hurt you?”

Just a little because of how deep he'd gone, but the amazing sensations he'd caused were beyond worth it. My hand reached up and back to his, holding them where they were, and I tipped my hips back to his, asking in a voice I didn't recognize, “No. Don't stop!”

I felt his smile against my back where he laid a kiss, and then I felt the power in his wrists as his grip firmed, and he began again, filling me with the best feelings I'd only ever feel with him.

When he finished, he slid down on top of me, pinning me to the mattress, still inside me, his arms under mine, holding my breasts in his hands while his thumbs softly stroked the sides, laying kisses on my neck and shoulders. Adoring. I hummed with contentment. When I needed a deeper breath he propped higher on his elbows.

“Never get enough of you.” He whispered, before he pulled away. Yeah. I felt the same.

That night, as I curled up next to him, an arm around his waist and a leg pulled over his stomach, my mind drifted.  Instead of being driven nearly mad by all the voices that would usually flood my mind at night, alone in my bed, I felt a flood of calm as I listened to Jack's heart beat and his quiet breaths above my head.  Exhaustion from many sleepless nights pulled me under quickly, but not before I could enjoy his hand on my bare thigh, his fingers sifting through my hair, or a gentle kiss on the top of my head.

 

* * *

So ends day 207 A.F.

 

 


	4. AF: 208

Day 208

 

Jack

 

It was nearly five so I told Evie to start looking for a place to spend the night. We still had a good three hours of daylight left but I wanted to try and scrounge a bit if possible before we settled in. We could always use more gas. I'd pulled over when the winds were at their highest both yesterday and today to conserve fuel, but even so, we'd used up most of our reserve. Not to mention with all the supplies we had, I wanted a safe place to store the car for the night.

Evie had spent several hours today sewing gold coins into our clothes and bags. I'd slashed off some cloth from a few corpses that looked like fair matches and she'd gone to work, not saying a word.

After I'd blown her mind last night, she'd blown mine and not just in the sack.  She'd done this by showing me a small black bag I'd missed when I'd unpacked my new bags in her room at Haven. It had blended in with the black lining and sunk to the bottom. She'd pulled it out and shown it to me, telling me her mom and Ronan had wanted me to have this, then opened the bag and spilled out a dozen different sizes of gold coins and two dozen one ounce silver bars. I'd sat in shock for a long while over that insane amount of riches. What could they have possibly been thinking to give me that kind of blunt?

When I'd asked, Evie'd said something to the effect of it being what I deserved for taking her on the trip, and it was only what I should have had if I'd been at Haven from the beginning anyway since I'd helped get the whole thing stared in the first place, saving so many lives and giving her the idea to print fliers and on and on. I'd finally kissed her to shut her up, not letting up until she'd melted in my arms. She was so adamant that I deserved it. Total nonsense. At least we wouldn't have to trade her jewelry if it came down to it.

There were too many coins to hide among my things so I talked it over with her and she came up with the idea of sewing hidden pockets in our stuff. Our backpacks and the things we'd wear everyday. My jacket and hers. A pair of pants that we'd either wear or keep as a backup in our bugout bag. Then she suggested extra pockets for the things I wanted to fit in my bag and couldn't. Extra ammo and a backup knife. That sort of shit. She was more than earning her keep.  

Now if only I could forget that any fresh food we'd be eating would be coming from her blood, not from sweat or tears or luck. That made my stomach knot. Just how much blood did it take to sprout a seed?  

This thought occurred again and again as my Evangeline sat most of the day singing along with her tunes and sewing coins into my pants, looking happy as a lark.  Having no clue the dark thoughts that swam through my mind.  The songs helped distract me though.  I hadn't heard music like this since the flash, and most of these songs were things I'd never turned the dial to find.  When I listened to music, which was mostly when I was fixing stuff or tinkering with putting a bike together from junkyard scrap or things Lionel and I scrounged, it was Cajun.  Occasionally some rock or very rarely country.  Too busy to learn a whole lot.  So most of what she listened to was new to me, but not at all to her.  I found myself forgetting my troubles on and off, tapping with the beat and enjoying the words.  We were alternating travel tongs, country, some pop, and thank heaven, some Cajun and zydeco.

 At times I found her grinning with a small smile playing on her lips.  Sometimes she'd fill the car with her sweet voice, singing along soft, or even loud if she really got into it.  But every once in a while, a song would come on and the scent of rosemary, sharp and swift, would fill the car. Sometimes she'd even sing along for a few notes before she'd falter. Sometimes the reaction would be immediate.

The first time this happened I reached out to change the song.

“No!” She told me. Then, softer she said, “Let it play.”

I eyed her carefully, wondering how Alanis Morissette could possibly make someone want to cry. When it was over, I asked her what that was about.

“What what was about?”

“Why'd that song make you sad?”

She did a double take, narrowing her eyes at me, and then seemed to remember I could “smell” her emotions. “Oh.” She shrugged and gave me a small sad smile. “I was just missing Mel. She loved that song. That's all.”

Throughout the day it seemed to be a regular theme. She was happy enough with me, but there was no doubt that _ma belle_ was _en deuil_.  She mourned her friends and family as though she might not ever see them again, though she tried to put on a bright face. Song after song, none of which she'd let me change, she'd tell me were reminders of her mom, other folks I didn't know, Isabeu, Ronan, Ronain, Teebo, Lionel, Anais, even Gaston and Juliet. At one point she stopped trying to keep up a brave face and just decided to take a “nap.” Putting away her sewing, pulling out my jacket, and laying down. She stretched her arm out to hug my stomach and closed her eyes, but the smell of rosemary didn't fade off into lavender for a long while, and tears silently fell over the bridge of her nose into her hair. I didn't know what to say about it so I just stretched my arm over her shoulder and kept my hand on the smooth skin of her side till she finally smelled of lavender and those tears stopped falling. Dieu, she was breaking my heart.

At one point I had to get out and add gas. When I got back in she hadn't woken up yet, but she was murmuring, “Come, touch. But you'll pay a price.”

Creepy sounding. Was that the Empress's call? Her eyes were moving back and forth like she was dreaming. Shit. I wasn't protecting her.

I slammed the door and she sat up with a start. “Jack?!”

“Mais, yeah. You alright?”

She'd run her hands over her face looking shaken. “Um. Yeah. Sure. Where are we?”

“Mississippi. I had to add gas. You were dreaming. You alright? You look...not okay.”

“It was getting ugly. I'm glad you woke me up before it went further.”

“You wanna talk about it?” I asked.

She shook her head hard. “I don't talk about those.”

Her tone said there'd be no talking her around, even though she clearly needed to get that stuff out of her head. Normally I would have taken her word for it, as there were plenty of things I didn't ever want to talk about either. But according to Lionel, and Tee-bo, and even some vague words from Ronan, women didn't get a pass like we did. Men could mostly put those things behind us with little if any talk, but women were different. They were more likely to _say_ they'd put it behind them or were letting it go, but what they were really doing was stewing on it, which they'd continue to do until they boiled over, or blew up like a pressure cooker.

I'd tried salvaging one of those after eating some good meat and potatoes at the Jandin's house one night. The one I'd found had had only performed twice before it literally blew it's top on me, spewing steamed potatoes all over my stove, myself, and everything in a ten foot radius.  You never really forgot something like that.  So Ronan's analogy had been memorable in the same way.  Though I wanted to press, I drove on, figuring I'd wear her down.  Seemed like we had nothing but time stretching ahead of us, just like the endless miles of road.

We'd driven in silence for the next while.  After another rest stop, she started talking some more about which tarot card might match which call, that she knew of. Which tarot cards she knew something about, which ones she'd had visions of. It was a mishmash. Talking it out we decided the Lightning strikes from her birthday were Eyes to the Skies Lads, I strike from Above. That matched the lightning strikes on the Tower card. She said she could draw a picture of him but didn't know his name yet. She'd seen him with a boy with wings. Perhaps that matched up with _I watch you like a hawk_? Since it seemed he could fly it made sense. There were other cards with wings though, so it was possible we were wrong on that one.

We had Death and the Devil figured out. Those were done. Lovers too.

The newest one, the female archer with red skin. _Behold, the Bringer of Doubt_. She had a vision of that one I knew so she planned to sketch that one tonight. Which card was she?

Most of the others we didn't have enough to go on. It was a good start though.

 

Those calls...those made me wonder. I knew she'd heard the Archer's in a vision that first time. But did this have anything to do with why she seemed distracted?  Why she couldn't learn to cook?  Why call them _calls_? The word stuck in my head, making me think of all the times I'd ever heard it used.

Call of God. Call to prayer. Duty calls. Bird calls. A yell. How did Arcana have a call? How often did they call, and who could hear it? I'd clearly never heard anything but Evie definitely had. How often did she hear those disturbing phrases? How loud were they? When had they started? She'd never mentioned them in September, but that didn't mean they hadn't happened.  Every time I learned something new about her, it seemed I found another three or more things I _didn't_ know.

Was it often enough to make it hard to focus, like when she wrote those notes yesterday? Was she hearing that phrase that whole time she was writing?   _Pic kee_ , that would drive a person nuts.

I tried to imagine hearing things that other folks couldn't. Seeing things others couldn't. How would you know those things were even real? You might begin to wonder if you were crazy...which reminded me of my ideas about where she'd really been last summer. I'd heard plenty of gossip those few days in school and at her party. Who went to a school for “deportment”?

Would she ever tell me if she had been somewhere else? I thought again about if she'd once told her _mère_ and then been locked up with the _fous._

When Evie put her notes away I put my hand on her thigh, and she smiled bright at me, covering my hand with hers. I wondered if she'd ever tell me the whole truth.

We found a nice two story in a subdivision. Plenty of places to search for fuel, but lots of danger too.  It was a good thing the pools all looked pretty empty.  Baggers would love those otherwise.  But after the flash and six months of summer with no rain, wasn't likely those'd have much in them.  And from what we could see from the highway, the nearest ones looked dried out.

Our house for the night had a privacy gate around most of the yard, but a metal gate on the driveway that swung in.  No lock.  I pulled our car into a gated drive and closed it, wrapping a chain and lock around the bars that I had in the car.  Then I opened the side door into the garage, grinning when the smell was good. Evie stayed close as I picked the lock on the back door. It smelled dusty but not rancid. No baggers. I put the owner's sports car in the garage in neutral and had Evie steer while I pushed it out and onto the grass, then shuttled our car in and closed the door.  She left her pack behind in the car.  Then I got on to her about that and she grudgingly picked it up and followed me upstairs.  It was likely safe in the car till we came back, but she might as well get into the habit now though.  

The two story garage had an apartment upstairs, so we went up and had a look.  A desk and mini fridge, empty.  The desk had a couple candy bars and a bag of pistachios.  Nice.  Evie grabbed a few pens and scribbled them on the paper pad on top of the desk, making sure they worked, before tucking them in her pack.  

 Empty fridge.  Already raided.  Same with the house.  

We went through room by room. Not much to find, a few empty gas cans in the garage but nearly a quarter tank of gas in one car that I managed to siphon out.  Another half gallon in the lawn mower.  Just a couple gallons in the second car. All told, nearly ten gallons.  Not as much as I'd hoped, but it'd do.

We moved on to the house, exploring, kitchen, closets, drawers, under beds.  Seemed like the folks here were an older couple from the clothes.  An apparently a health nut who had a boxes of vitamins and herbs and some essential oils that Evie got excited about.  No jewelry or guns or bullets.  I did find something interesting that gave me an idea for another time.  Somehow I didn't think my girl would be ready for that just yet.  Some first aid things.  No kids.  Evie picked a few blankets quilts and an extra pillow to stash in the car.  Thinking ahead I guessed.  

I thought about boarding up the window in the back yard that had been broken into before we arrived, but Evie suggested a few blackberry vines with big thorns might work just as well.  So I did a partial job and let her grow vines around the boards.  Some even went all the way through the window and into the house.  When she'd finished we could see out from inside, and hear any sounds from outside too.  No way a bagger could get in and a human couldn't do it without a fair bit of noise.  Good enough.

Then we settled on the rest of out plan for the night.  She helped bring in our bags for the night, then got started planting while I got dinner on.

The kitchen didn't have much. Some flour, oil and spices. No soups or crackers. The flour had weevils and the oil was rancid.  Not a total loss though.  The oil would make good fuel for a fire and I sifted out the larger weevils.  The smaller ones you couldn't taste and would add protein.  Between them being tiny and adding pecans, she'd never notice.  Still wasn't goan to tell her though.

I set up the camp stove and got to cooking, keeping an eye on her through the open back door. Evie and I had talked about what resources to use first. As much as it burned me to do it, she said we needed to go through the fresh foods first, save the canned foods for last. According to her we'd never run out of fresh foods or seeds, but the canned and packaged foods were limited. Only problem was, I knew why we wouldn't run out of the fresh stuff. Because her blood was supplying it and that was replenished daily.

It killed me that I couldn't confront her about that. How much blood did it take to grow strawberries, or potatoes, or an apple tree? That was her first idea. Grow a _pic-kee_ apple tree.

I'd stomped that idea right quick. I shuddered to think how much blood it took to grow a damn tree. And the many trees she'd grown at Haven while I'd been watching, holding her shivering pale and far too thin frame. I didn't want to know.

Tonight we were having pancakes and berries, and probably tomorrow too.  I was making enough for the morning. We'd eat 'em cold. Or maybe I'd reheat them.  A second griddle held some powdered eggs. If it was just me I'd stick with the pancakes but my fille needed more meat on her bones. I couldn't believe how much she'd grown since I'd last seen her, but she was still so skinny. Her breasts were even larger now than they were six months ago, and I'd liked them then. I wondered what size they'd be when she was a healthy weight. I'd make sure she ate enough to make up for however much blood she spilled tonight. After we ate, and hauled water from the hot water heater for a bath, she locked herself in the bathroom for a good half hour, telling me she needed a bath and girl time to primp. Like she wasn't beautiful as is.

I wouldn't have thought anything of it, knowing girls can take an age in the bathroom, but when she came out, the color in her cheeks was pale. She'd been shifty too, bringing that bowl with her, then wanting “privacy” to get her things put away, suggesting I go ahead and get cleaned up now that the bathroom was free. I tried to talk to her about it when I came out, but she acted like she didn't know what I was talking about.  While I cleaned up I thought about picking the topic up again, somehow.  Instead I listened to her chatter and the sounds of her washing clothes as I looked over a couple quick sketches she'd drawn of Arcana while I'd been washing up.

Some boy with wings in an old-fashioned white shirt with laces up the front, and another kid with a lightning bolt in his hand. She thought he was the one who “struck from above” and told me he had an Irish accent. Then she retold what had happened the night of her birthday party in the woods when she'd been scared of lightning. Strange bolts had struck just yards, then inches from her, following her as she ran. Strange because there was no clap of thunder after them. Which meant this Arcana had been there the night of her party and was likely a threat.   

This made me madder than hell.  It also made me think that whatever else the Arcana might want with her, at least three of them had deadly intentions.  I looked at her again as she packed her things away.  My soft, _belle fille_.  Gentle, generous girl who could grow plants, but still teared up and could have died so easily if she'd taken this trip alone.  My jaw firmed with resolve.  Tonight, I'd appreciate her the way she deserved, but tomorrow I'd start the distasteful task of toughening her up.  She wouldn't like it, but you didn't always like what you needed.  I just hoped she was a quick learner.

 a/n

Not a lot of dialogue, but Evie's more wordy than Jack is.    
Also, if you have a thought about any songs Jack might like, sock em to me.  If I like it, I'll likely include it.  And thanks a bunch for your reviews!  They rock my world!


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